


Watching

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Malaya-centric, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6191359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after seeing Phillip, Malaya watches the little boy playing on the playground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

                                                                           _Watching_

 

            Malaya continued to watch the small boy on the slide. She could see his faint curls bounce in the wind, a gleeful smile on his face as he slid down the smooth red slide. It took only for a moment for the boy to be enveloped in another’s arms, the smile on the young woman’s face genuine and infectious as she affectionately patted the child’s cheek as her light brown hair waved in the wind. Malaya swallowed, taking a strand of her dark hair and curling it in her hand slightly as she watched the caretaker glance fondly at the young boy as the light brown-haired toddler started to run towards another group of children.

            The lump in Malaya’s throat increased. _Phillip._ It had been two years. It had been two years that Carla had given birth to a premature baby boy the day before she died. Malaya could still remember of how tiny Phillip was then, so weak and helpless from his birth. Carla had wanted him. And now as the older woman stared at the happily shrieking boy who was playing in the grass, she couldn’t help but wonder if Carla could see her son. It had pained to Malaya to no end of how she hadn’t seen Phillip every day in the time he was still in the NICU. Residency had been brutal, and added with Carla’s death, it had been impossible to see Phillip among the other sickly babies. Malaya self-consciously touched the faint scar across her abdomen. The attack that had almost killed her and killed another one of her colleagues remained fresh in her mind even though Gordon Heshman was dead and that she was healed. It had taken Malaya a full month to go back to work, after most of the night terrors and spasms of fear had ceased. There were still times when a domestic violence or rape victim came into Angels, and the now-attending froze. But the thought of helping people who had experienced what she had allowed her to forget of the memory of her scar on her abdomen. That, and Mama’s words that he had told her on that day.

            _The real tragedy would be to lose the goodness inside of me,_ Malaya thought as her mind focused on the present again. Her dark eyes could see Carla’s son playing in the grass, brightly colored toys surrounding him as he and the other children played. Malaya licked her lips, the sadness bubbling inside her as she thought of how she hadn’t wanted Phillip. She had wanted Carla to live, and not give up simply because of the risks of chemotherapy on an unborn fetus. But now as she watched the little boy play, his tiny white teeth shining in the sun and laughter peeling from his lips, Malaya understood of why Carla had made the decision that she did.

            _Are you watching, Carla?_ Malaya thought with a saddened smile at the thought of the woman she loved. It had been hard, so very hard, when Carla and Malaya had ended their relationship. In some ways, it had been the hardest time of Malaya’s life, because Carla had been the first woman she had said “I love you“ to, and the first person the younger woman could see spending her life with. That was why, when Christa broke up with Neal, she could understand the pain that both her friend and attending that she respected and saw as family going through. Although the dark-haired second year resident had been very happy when the two had gotten back together, Malaya had told no one of how she had cried in the locker room where no one could see.

            Because no matter how hard she wished, Carla was not going to come back. There was no possibility for Carla to come back to life. _“Don’t waste a single moment of this,”_ Malaya had whispered into Christa’s ear as the two residents hugged shortly after the older blond had told her that she and Neal had reconciled. _“Not this time. Don’t let him go,”_ Malaya had whispered, swallowing the still-raw grief at the memory of Carla lying so still and not opening her eyes ever again. Although the dark-haired resident had kept control over her voice, her eyes were bright and it was hard to look clearly at Christa. _“Don’t let him go, because you won’t know when it will be gone.”_

 _“I won’t.”_ Malaya had almost wanted to cry at the look of determination and genuine smile and love pouring out of once-haunted mother with a dead son. _“I know now what I didn’t know then.”_

 _“And what is that?”_ Malaya had asked. At the corner of her eye, she could see Neal instructing another resident, a first year named Isabel Franconia, his patience and kindness reminding her why Neal Hudson was such a good human being, and deserved Christa Lorenson.

            There was no hesitance or insecurity this time as Christa spoke.

            _“That I am not his second choice.”_

There were times when Malaya, recovering from the attack and fear gasping in her throat, dreamed of Carla. The female doctor was cancer free and they were together again, playing with their small son named Phillip as the two rolled on the grass as the toddler shrieked with joy.

            _“Mama! Mommy! Look at me!”_

It was only when Malaya found tears staining her cheeks when she woke up that she had to accept the reality of things.

            Which she was looking at now.

            The dark-haired attending hadn’t told anyone that she had searched for Phillip, finally finding him in the care of a single woman who worked as math professor. One day, after a particularly brutal code black with five patient dying, Malaya had simply watched the afternoon pass as the sun and clouds shone overhead as the children played on the playground. She had almost been asleep when she heard an alto voice call out a name that was achingly, grievingly, familiar to her ears.

            Phillip had only been about a year old then, just learning to walk but smiling happily as his caretaker scooped him up in her arms and started kissing his cheeks and nose. Malaya had watched with her mouth open, shock making it so that she couldn’t speak. She remained motionless as the woman carrying an infant Phillip began to walk away. It was only when Malaya touched her face to make certain that this was real and not an illusion that she realized that she was crying.

            Only Rollie Guthrie knew about Malaya’s visits to the playground after her shifts. _“How is the boy today?”_ the senior attending had asked her in the beginning of her shift after Malaya had watched Phillip the second time. The younger woman had simply stared at the attending for a moment as she could see kindness and understanding across his face.

            _“He’s good,”_ Malaya had whispered. _“He’s walking, and today he caught a ball...”_ That was all she could say before her throat caught and tears started to roll down her face. Malaya allowed herself to finally let go as Rollie Guthrie embraced her in his arms, his strong embrace never letting go until she pulled away.

            Malaya absently wondered if one day Phillip would notice a young woman with long dark hair watching him from afar and sometimes smiling. She wondered, if one day, the small toddler would one day have questions about his mother that loved him more than life, and approach her. Asking her questions that Malaya wasn’t certain if she would able to answer in ten years or twenty. The attending that had endured and suffered so much stood. Today was one of those short days, she supposed. Sometimes it was easy watching Phillip play. Other days it was exceedingly painfully, especially when thinking of Carla and her death. With a slight glance backward at the child that meant so much to them, Malaya hefted her bag on her shoulders and walked away.

* * *

 

         Phillip frowned, his curly hair that his mother said was soft as the bunnies he liked waving slightly as he looked backward. _Where’s the lady?_ the toddler thought in confusion. The pretty lady with black hair always sat on the blue bench. Sometimes when Phillip and Mommy went home, the little boy could see the pretty lady watching them. He saw her smile once, and Phillip thought it was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

         He never told anyone, but he thought the lady was like his guardian angel.

        But the lady was gone.


End file.
